Friday, April 7, 2017
On the Poetry of the Universe
“Night was come, and her planets were risen: a safe, still night: too serene for the companionship of fear. We know that God is everywhere; but certainly we feel His presence most when His works are on the grandest scale spread before us; and it is in the unclouded night-sky, where His worlds wheel their silent course, that we read clearest His infinitude, His omnipotence, His omnipresence.” -Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
Thursday, April 6, 2017
This old heart of mine
This old heart of mine,
Still hurts.
Every niche, nook, drawer, untucked clothes and shadow of it
Aches.
A dull, ferocious aching, too.
The kind that makes you stay up stumbling through the night savagely, hands outstretched and weary,
Trying to find an answer through your blindness.
I am not alone.
I have one friend and my books.
But the trouble with one friend and books is she isn't always there and the books eventually end.
And when they end it hurts.
It hurts so badly that you stumble through the night
Aching to be whole again.
Aching to read it for the first time once more--
Where things were exciting and new and beguiling.
But now the feelings settle, sequester in your mind and puddle in your heart nostalgically and all you can do
Is ache and reminisce and keep looking.
Keep searching for the next book to catch you and your friend to come home
And things to work out.
Always, to work out.
-k.p.
April 6th, 2017
Thursday
2:00pm - still in bed aching in a full and vicious hangover of a book (the best book the whole world) and waiting for heaven knows what.
Wednesday, April 5, 2017
Reader, I Married Him
“I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you—especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame.”
Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
(In honor of finishing one of the greatest novels ever written, finished in the in between dream-state of the lateness of night and the earliness of morning.
What sweltering pains and deep passions fill my heart, until, if those words read once again, these feelings will surely overflow in a river of conscious experience and beauty.
Thanks be to God for allowing such words to penetrate my heart and for the the brave, clever, indescribable woman who wrote them--Charlotte, thank you. I sense a true, unequivocal kindred spirit in you. I owe you much. -k.p. )
5:36am
Sunday, April 2, 2017
Stay Alive
"The gears won't turn and the leaves won't grow."
I didn't want us to be those people that love each other for one measly moment and then after time slips through us, through our veins and our bodies, we forget the sound of each other's names rolling off our lips sweetly. We forget how much our love was once so strong and beautiful and happy.
I didn't want to forget how kind and extraordinary you once were and I didn't want to stop my wanting and my pacing and my loving. I didn't want to be disgusted or repelled by every last thing attached to you and your soul that was once so bright and beautiful.
But I've been waiting all my life to feel a heart keeping time just as mine does. I've been waiting all my life to feel alive by someone else, that feeling that makes you stay alive and know the dawn is coming and I can open my eyes, and know I'm going to be okay. I've been waiting all my life to be loved too.
I didn't want us to be strangers, but it's what we are. We are strangers to a love that has been dead for years, even though we've only known each other for shorter time than that.
You seemed like such an eminent, innocent, marvelously distressed idea to me, years ago. But now I see you are nothing of the kind. You are empty of love for me along with many things and I am sorry that it ended the way it has.
But as it's always said when things like this happen--
c'est la vie.
That's life, my friend.
And it keeps going.
You do whatever just to stay alive, sometimes.
And sometimes, you stay alive because you want to.
Never forget that both ways are important, but one, one day, will set you free. If you let it.
"[There] is a truth and it's on our side. Dawn is coming open your eyes. Look into the sun as the new days rise."
Dawn is coming, they say, open your eyes.
-k.p.
March 23, 2017
I didn't want us to be those people that love each other for one measly moment and then after time slips through us, through our veins and our bodies, we forget the sound of each other's names rolling off our lips sweetly. We forget how much our love was once so strong and beautiful and happy.
I didn't want to forget how kind and extraordinary you once were and I didn't want to stop my wanting and my pacing and my loving. I didn't want to be disgusted or repelled by every last thing attached to you and your soul that was once so bright and beautiful.
But I've been waiting all my life to feel a heart keeping time just as mine does. I've been waiting all my life to feel alive by someone else, that feeling that makes you stay alive and know the dawn is coming and I can open my eyes, and know I'm going to be okay. I've been waiting all my life to be loved too.
I didn't want us to be strangers, but it's what we are. We are strangers to a love that has been dead for years, even though we've only known each other for shorter time than that.
You seemed like such an eminent, innocent, marvelously distressed idea to me, years ago. But now I see you are nothing of the kind. You are empty of love for me along with many things and I am sorry that it ended the way it has.
But as it's always said when things like this happen--
c'est la vie.
That's life, my friend.
And it keeps going.
You do whatever just to stay alive, sometimes.
And sometimes, you stay alive because you want to.
Never forget that both ways are important, but one, one day, will set you free. If you let it.
"[There] is a truth and it's on our side. Dawn is coming open your eyes. Look into the sun as the new days rise."
Dawn is coming, they say, open your eyes.
-k.p.
March 23, 2017
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